


I'm Not The Man You Think I Am

by UltraVioletSoul



Category: Call of Duty
Genre: Cheesiness, F/M, Sexual Situations, Soap Opera Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:05:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8765326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraVioletSoul/pseuds/UltraVioletSoul
Summary: He just wanted to step out of his father's shadow.
[[ Will Irons x F!Reader ]]





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot that I wrote a long time ago... but I thought I'd post it here for your enjoyment and to have a backup. Be warned that my writing style back then was really sloppy and repetitive. I tried to fix it now, but it's still a wreck...
> 
> I remember when Advanced Warfare came out, I fell so hard for Will... who appeared in the game for like ten minutes? I don't remember. That was before I could even consider Mitchell or Gideon husband material orz are there any Will lovers out there? Don't tell me I was the only one who wanted to tap dat booty orz 
> 
> As a clarification, I want to say that I'm aware of how long he has been enlisted in the Marine Corps. However, I’m taking some liberties with the timeline because I needed to give the story some sense of plausibility. Also, yes, the accuracy of some things is off and I wrote this fic on a high.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Call of Duty Advanced Warfare or its characters. They all belong to Activision and Sledgehammer. No copyright infringement intended. All I’m trying to do is provide entertainment to the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:**
> 
> English is not my first language. Unbetaed work. OoC. Contains a lot of cheesiness and, let’s just say, sexual situations. Nothing too explicit, however— it's just a small portion of this story. This story was written two years ago, so my writing style may suck.

The first time he met you, he was on his way to visit his mother during his first leave. There was no father to visit in that occasion, even though he was still very much alive. Truth be told, they hadn't talked for long months on end but it wasn't as if his old man would have the time, anyways. Since William had joined the Marine Corps, Jonathan had been adamant on making it clear that his only son had been a disappointment to him merely because he'd made his own choices in life and, though William shouldn't have been surprised at that statement, somehow hearing it affected him.

They always had their differences in the past, given that both men had been unyielding in their mindsets, but never before had they tried to hurt each other with cruel words. At least, not intentionally. It all had ended on a bad note that evening, when he informed his parents of his decision. His mother was crying and begging him not to do it, not to leave her alone and risk his life unnecessarily. Jonathan wore a mask of stone, features hard and eyes dark. William could see the anger in them, feel the tension increase and anticipate the storm that would be unleashed.

This wasn't the affectionate and loving man William remembered from his childhood. This man had become his judge and executioner, and there was no way to measure up to his expectations anymore— no way to tell right from wrong. He knew hell would freeze before the old man had a change of heart but, despite the odds, William still hoped that at least he would support him this time.

Then things got out of control. The more Jonathan demanded for him to give up his wishes, the more William made it a point not to change his mind. It was a constant battle of convictions and, for once, the young man was determined not to lose before his father’s command. He was told that he did not know what he was doing, that he had no idea what war was all about— that he would never make it out of boot camp and that, by the end of the month, he’d be knocking on the front door.

It had been almost a year since then. Nearly a year before he met you in a strange and quite unexpected way.

He’d just stopped at a red light when the force of an impact pushed him forward, towards the steering wheel. Luckily he had the seatbelt on but he remembered being upset about the whole thing, cursing his luck as he glared at the rear mirror and watched a distressed young woman stumble out of her car in a haste. It was funny how chance worked to get two souls together, for he could never have imagined that your meeting would be the start of it all.

“Oh my God, are you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?” You had hurried to him with a panicked expression, the line of cars behind you getting longer by the time the light had changed to green. The commotion grew as horns started to honk but, eventually, everyone made their way around while you and him seemed to have been caught in another world.

“Yea, I guess I’m good.” He brushed a hand against his hair as you slumped your shoulders and sighed, closing your eyes briefly with a grimace. He couldn’t help but notice your discomfort, so he had to wonder the same. “You okay there?”

There was only a feeble nod from you, while he approached the back of his car and assessed the damage that had been done. It wasn’t as bad as he had thought it’d be, only a scratch here and there and a rear light broken but, other than that, everything was just fine.

“I'm really sorry. I swear I didn't see the red light. I'm so sorry. I'm such a dummy.” You covered your face with your hands, and your voice came muffled between what he thought were small sobs. “I'm so sorry!”

_Crap_. That had escalated pretty quick. Just his luck, he thought. Was it too much to ask for a peaceful drive to his apartment? Apparently, it was.

His hand reached for your shoulder, hesitant at first, before he took a film hold of it. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Look at me, alright?” You met his gaze and your eyes… they were red and puffy, something he hadn’t noticed before. It looked as though you’d been crying for hours, and he was taken aback for a moment when you said sorry once more.

It didn’t sound like you were apologizing for crashing into his car. It was more like you were asking forgiveness for not being able to meet everyone's expectations, for not having the solution to every problem— for not being able to give more than what you had. 

"It's okay. See? Just take it easy. Nobody's hurt." With little effort he made you comply and you collected yourself, wiping your tears with the back of your hands. “Having a bad day?”

There was hesitancy at first as you looked at him with curious eyes, surprised that he had even asked. The cool evening breeze blew against your damp face and you stared at your feet, debating whether to answer or not. You barely knew him... yet he had cared enough to ask, this man who didn’t know you at all. The irony, you thought.

“Yea, something like that.” You gave him a sad smile, before falling silent once more. He only regarded you with an expectant look, and you felt at a loss for words. Did he really want to know? Or was he just trying to be polite? If that was the case, then he had to be awfully kind. You had nothing to lose, at any rate. “My grandpa passed away a few weeks ago, I lost my job and my mother thought it would be a great idea to get a divorce now of all times.”

His stare was sympathetic, as he pursed his lips and made a slight frown. “Sorry about that.”

“It's okay,” you assured with a small smile, which soon faded and left uneasiness in its place. If you had thought it would make you feel better letting it out of your system, you had been wrong. “Ah, please, don't think I'm saying this just to get away with what I did!” You grew nervous, fiddling with the edge of your t-shirt and feeling embarrassed by the moment. “I promise I'll take care of the repairs for your car, even if you have insurance. I feel really bad that my distraction was an inconvenience for you. This doesn't justify what I did so it'd be wrong of me to let you go without some sort of compensation.”

“It's alright. Let's... just forget about this, alright?” William had no wish to make such a fuss over something so insignificant as this. He merely wasn’t interested in wasting his time.

“You can't be serious.” Your eyes widened and you gaped at him, not knowing exactly what to say at this point, whereas his grey eyes only gazed at you full of seriousness. You tried to speak, but no words came out. There was only blabbering from you, which only made your cheeks go red at your inability to come up with some form of coherent speech.

He did his best to keep a straight face the whole time, so you wouldn’t think he was making fun of you. Still, the way you tried so hard to convince him, and the expressions you made were so amusing that he couldn’t resist. William had to cross his arms and cover his mouth with a fist to have the chance to smile discreetly, as he diverted his eyes and pretended to be in deep thought.

“You're… laughing?” You certainly couldn’t understand his reaction at all, and the truth was that he didn’t blame you. He couldn’t understand it himself but decided not to dwell much on those thoughts. It took him a moment to find composure and he cleared his throat, trying not to look like a complete wacko or a disrespectful jerk.

“Well, I only see some scratches,” he explained, a bit matter-of-factly, shoes scrunching against the pavement as he shifted and rested against the car door. “I don't see what's the big deal. Besides, you kinda made me a favor. I never liked this car, anyways.” He chuckled to show he meant the joke but you still looked unconvinced and he sighed, thinking that it was getting late and wishing he could make it home soon. “Really, it's fine. Everybody's got a bad day every once in a while. You don't have to worry about something like this.”

“Is the reaction you have with all the people that crash into your car?” Your eyes shifted to the road ahead, and you dared feel a bit amused at the situation. If you were even allowed to do such a thing, that was.

He shrugged. “I don't know. This is a first for me. Guess I'll have to keep an eye on that next time.”

There was heartfelt laughter from you, as though you found the whole thing insanely hilarious— and maybe it had been, even when he failed to see how. But the merriment was short-lived and gave way to your serious determination, which surprised him even more at the sudden change in you.

“Still, I'll have to refuse. Please, let me fix this otherwise I won't have peace of mind. And trust me, I really need to sleep tonight. I have a job interview tomorrow morning and I don't want to be dozing off in the waiting room or, worse, in front of my potential boss.”

He had to laugh at that one. It would have been a sight to see, but he decided that it would be too cruel making you suffer so, after a moment's consideration, he finally agreed. “Alright, if you put it that way, I'd feel terrible to say no.”

“So it's a deal, then?” You sounded and looked relieved as you clapped your hands to your chest, one over the over, smiling with ease.

There was no harm in a little politeness, right? Even when he didn’t really intend to keep his word, there could be nothing wrong with a little white lie.

“You bet.”

He should have known a lie would lead to another… and another.

He never thought they would bring so many implications but would the truth have been a better option? He wasn’t so sure. When people looked at him, they never saw him as an individual. They only saw the son of one of the most powerful men on Earth. He wasn’t a person; he was a thing that had to be observed, studied, molded and criticized by the world as the man that would take over ATLAS once his father retired. For once, he had wished he could be an average Joe without the shadow of Jonathan’s empire looming over him. 

Sometimes, he wondered what it felt like to be free.

When he met you he felt like a person, for a change. In the Marines he had lived the experience of being one more of the boys but he still was the son of Jonathan Irons, wherever he went. William had been scorned and even told that he had no business in the Marines and that he should go home to his daddy. It was one thing occupying space for the sake of proving a point, and another completely different showing that you truly belonged with the family. At least, until he met Jack Mitchell who became not only his best friend but his brother, and someone he could trust with his life no matter how ugly things got.

He’d wanted to be someone else. The lie was not supposed to do any harm but he hadn’t thought of the consequences, for he never expected to find a friend in you. Never did he expect to find himself looking forward to see you the next time he made it home in one piece. It had been the words exchanged while he was away that made him grow fond of you, the moments you spent when you were together. You’d managed to give him back him a sense of normalcy and security in his life that he thought he would never have again. He was free to be himself, free to share his thoughts— free to let go of his fears for a while.

When he met you that evening, there was no such thing as love at first sight as one would have believed it. It was only an unfortunate event, an inconvenience that had kept him from reuniting with the only relative that actually seemed to care about him. He remember he just wanted to be done with it and be on his way. It was actually funny, in some strange way, though he didn’t understand it at the moment— wasn’t really invested in doing so. He didn’t know you, after all.

That was a lie. He shouldn’t have cared but he did because maybe he saw something of him in you. Perhaps it was the way you both tried to set your lives right, find a path. Maybe it was the determination you shared, how you never gave up. Maybe it was because you saw him as a person and didn’t judge him. 

Then again, he was William Mitchell to you, a Marine on leave visiting his family, and there was nothing else you needed to know about him. It was a phone call here and there, a meeting, and a cup of coffee late in the evening which marked the beginning, however. You’d been complete strangers yet it was so easy and natural talking with you, easier to open up when you had no idea of who he truly was.

Was it wrong to keep the secret from you, at least for some more time? No matter how much he wanted that, he was a known face and it got more difficult as months went by. William knew he should have been truthful and tell you that he wasn’t who you thought he was, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he did, it would change everything between you two— or that was what he had believed. He couldn’t do it just yet.

One day, he promised himself, he would confess his crime.

As friendship it started, before any of you could suspect it was blossoming into something more. It would have been obvious to someone else but, apparently, you two were too dense to notice the change. He had been, until it was too late— when the funny conversations became deep ones and there was such a truthfulness to you that he very much enjoyed and didn’t want to lose. 

Nights chatting with you, and evenings meeting for a walk, turned into something William appreciated far more than he dared to admit. He also found himself thinking about you more often during those long nights on watch. He remembered your stories, about how your father was a Marine too and your mother the least likely woman he could have ever married. A case of ‘opposites attract’ perhaps, him with a no-nonsense attitude and a bit cynical. Your mother… she was more like a post-hippie who had a knack for the Ramones and believed in peace and free love.

They had met in a bar and had something going on, which ended up in pregnancy and, ironically, marriage— in that order, yes. Now your mother announced that she wanted to be done with him for good. From what William gathered, your parents didn’t get on very well but had tried to put up with each other until there came a breaking point. And while you said you understood it was in their best interests to separate, it wasn’t fair your mother wanted you to take sides.

But there were some nice stories that stuck with him, and one of them was you cutting your aunt’s hair while she was sleeping. You were just a kid, trying to make her look ‘pretty’ but only managed to make the poor woman cry. Or about that time you accidentally locked yourself in the bathroom for half an hour and were crying like there was no tomorrow. Your dad was about to kick the door open when you managed to unlock it out of the blue, casually walked by past him and headed to the sitting room to watch cartoons. Or those times you ran naked in your backyard, dramatically screaming for help, which had the neighbors calling the cops and your parents trying to explain what you had done.

Those anecdotes of yours always brought a smile to his face. His buddies weren’t the only ones to notice the strange change in him. His mother also remarked that he looked happier, smiled a lot more as of late. It had been such an embarrassment to him when she asked him if there was a girl in his life, maybe hopeful that he’d settle down and make amends with his father. If only she knew it was you, she would have probably never accepted you as her daughter-in-law simply because you weren’t in the same social sphere.

Jesus Christ, what was he thinking? It was insane yet he knew he had to tell you how he felt. He needed to get it off his chest. Perhaps you would reciprocate? Perhaps you would reject him? It was a dangerous game but he had to know if there was a chance you felt the same.

It was awkward, however, fumbling with his words and overall making an idiot of himself. Even though he had rehearsed his confession a million times, all thoughts escaped his mind the moment he saw you cross the street and wave at him. You looked so beautiful that afternoon that he just forgot what to say. There was something to you that day he found hard to resist— maybe it was the excitement in your eyes, the laughter in your lips and the sun in your hair, the blush in your cheeks. Perhaps it was the gentleness in your hands, as you held his face and kissed him, but he thought that he fell in love with you for real. His chest ached with relief and glee at that moment and, for some time, everything was alright.

Until he was informed he would be deployed to South Korea.

It was then, a summer night, that you made love for the first time. Even in that aspect he was inexperienced, for he’d never been intimate with anyone else and neither had you. The shy look in your eyes and the flush on your face were a dead give-away, when you asked him to spend the night together. You’d told him you were ready, said that you didn’t want to wait any longer to be with him. The idea seemed to overwhelm him and he doubted, his heart beating so fast he thought it would give out, and then you took the first daring step that led to your bed.

His hands had trembled so much when he touched you in ways he only had dreamed of during long nights alone. He remembered feeling light-headed, as though he’d been on some drug, and not quite knowing what to do as you lay beneath him, expectant and feeling as nervous as him. That was before you covered your face and started to giggle uncontrollably, breaking the tension of the moment and bringing reassurance and warmth. It was clear that neither of you had an idea of what you were doing but you could find out the way together, and so you did.

He was ecstatic, on an impossible high, when your nude skin was pressed against his and your limbs tangled in your lovemaking. It was surreal listening to your voice whispering his name with urgency and desire. More than once, he’d been so close to lose all control but held back because he wanted to take it slow and make it special for you, as it was for him.

He wasn’t the type of guy to enter a relationship without some sort of commitment. It wasn’t in him to do that, while his friends had no problems with indulging in a bit of action of the more pleasurable kind from time to time. You shared the same ideas as him, that was why when you took that important step with him he knew it had to be meaningful and deep. You had been his first too and he was so happy for that when you slept by his side, head on his chest.

Before his tired eyes closed, he decided that he would find the right moment to tell you the truth soon.

But how soon?

* * *

A loud chime woke you up with a start and you jumped out of the bed, convinced that you’d overslept and were late for work. In your haste to get up, you tangled your feet with the sheets and fell on the carpet, groaning as you hit your side and rolled on your back. With a sigh, you stared at the ceiling and wondered why this day couldn’t have started in a more perfect way.

There was rustling on your bed and you looked up, freezing in place as you noticed things that certainly were a novelty in your everyday routine. First, it was the sight of Will naked, regarding you with a look of bewilderment, and then there was the fact that you too didn’t have any clothes on— which made you go red in the face with embarrassment as you recalled the events of last night. You also noticed how much your muscles hurt, and how sore you felt between your legs, when you moved to hit the snooze of your alarm clock. Only problem was that it wasn’t the alarm going off but the phone ringing in the sitting room. 

The only reason you didn’t have a phone in your bedroom was because few people called to that number, and your family and friends always reached you at your cellphone… which had run out of battery.

_Dammit._

It was then that William gave you one of those charming smiles, chuckling as his grey eyes playfully stared at you. “Do you usually wake up like this every morning?”

That smile was your undoing, you swore.

“Um, well…” You wished you could have said something teasing in return, but the noise was so loud and annoying you couldn’t think of a proper comeback. What in the world was happening? You only hoped it wasn’t bad news, you briefly pondered as you got up and walked to the door, the answering machine playing your recorded voice before it could finally pick the message.

_“I’m going to kill you! How could you?”_ A feminine voice on the other side of the line threatened and you had to stop mid-way, eyes wide with shock. Trying to make sense of the absurdity of the moment, you met William’s stare and gave him a look of disbelief and mild horror as though he’d give you an explanation.

He only arched an eyebrow and threw an uneasy glance to the door. “What was that?”

_“I know you’re there so you’d better answer me right now!”_

Leaving him behind, you kept the sheets tight around you and hurried to the sitting room of your small apartment. Crawling on the couch, you fished for the phone and, as soon as you picked it up, there was a screech in your ear that made you cringe. Whatever the problem was, you honestly weren’t up for this kind of issues first thing in the morning when you craved a shower and a good dose of caffeine in your body.

_“I cannot believe you!”_

You moved the phone away from you, feeling taken aback at the indignation in the woman’s voice. What had gotten into her this time? You hadn’t even said hello when she started yelling at you like she had completely gone insane.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you trying to leave me deaf or something?” You placed the device on your other ear, hoping that she had found some composure and would speak to you like a civilized human being.

_“Oh my God! Why didn't you tell me, you little minx?”_ You guessed it was too much to ask a bit of self-control and tact, you mused while desperately tapping the function key to turn the volume down in hopes of not having your hearing impaired after this conversation. Jesus Christ, give me strength to endure this test, you silently prayed as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Excuse me, what are you talking about? Have you been drinking again?” Shifting into a sitting position, you tried your best to find a cozy spot so your body wouldn’t protest in discomfort. You needed that relaxing shower now so, if you didn’t make any progress with her, you just were cutting it short.

_“Don't play me a fool. You know exactly what I'm talking about!”_

“I don't even know what I did!” You groaned, throwing your head back so it rested on the back pillows, taking a much needed deep breath. You could picture her rolling her eyes as she huffed and it elicited a smile from you, before you let your eyelids drop. The darkness brought pleasant thoughts while you smelt Will's scent enveloping you, the sheets so nice and warm around you… and hot… his hands on your body as he kissed you and you begged for—

_“You were going out with William Irons and you didn't have the decency to let me know? Me, your best friend?”_

Abruptly, you were pulled out of your daydream as you barely caught her words, still unable to understand what was going on. “Who?”

_“I don't know why you're playing dumb with me, darling. It's all over the news.”_

“What's all over the news?”

A sigh of irritation, then a few seconds of miraculous silence. You were beginning to think she had hung up on you but, before you could say something, her voice spoke again, this time more collected and calm. You almost had to strain yourself to hear anything.

_“Fine. William Irons the son of Jonathan Irons and, before you ask any more stupid questions, he's the president of a private military corporation. The old man's so rich he could probably afford buying this entire country with every soul and resource in it. Scratch that, the entire continent.”_

You felt like you’d been hit by a ton of bricks, maybe at the knowledge that one man could have so much power.

Jonathan Irons. You had heard that name before but never gave it much thought. It was none of your business, after all, since you didn’t precisely kept up with all the affairs in the lives of rich people. You only knew he was the founder of one of the biggest PMCs in the world. Was it Atlus? ATLAS? You could care less at this point, being more focused on the first piece of information that she had so kindly provided.

You felt shocked, perhaps because the man you were with was also named William but that surely was just a coincidence. There was confusion as you tried to sort out your thoughts but you discarded the idea as something out of a sappy soap opera and wheezed in laughter. The lone idea that your friend was suggesting you had something going on with the son of that man was… well, ridiculous. Oh, dear, she was so funny sometimes! Like _that_ would ever happen in this lifetime. What kind of idiot was involved with someone and missed an important detail like that?

“Are you mental? What drug are you on, for goodness' sake? Or did you happen to hit your head so hard that you're making up crazy stories? The only thing I can say is that it's too early for this crap, okay? You could have at least given me some more time to shower.”

_“Ha, you think I'm kidding? Just watch the news and tell me I'm crazy!”_

“I just tell you, that's insane. I don't even know the guy. Where did you get that from? What's this rubbish you're going on about?” You reached for the remote control, turned the TV on and flipped through some channels, not knowing exactly what to look for. You didn’t expect to find anything, either, and were about to excuse yourself and hung up when you finally switched to a gossip channel— the kind of which you’d never been keen on watching. However, something caught your eye and it was that familiar face of someone you had come to know very well…

Or so you had believed.

“It seems like the son of Jonathan Irons, founder and CEO of ATLAS Corporation, is still causing quite the fuss after his unexpected enlistment in the Marine Corps. His newest affair has come to light and we have to wonder just who is the lucky lady by his side? No one knows for sure although—”

You had stopped listening the moment you were faced with the truth you’d been so blind to all this time. Your eyes were glued to the screen as you leaned forward, unable to grasp the reality of those words. But there was no way to deny or unsee the picture that had been taken days ago, of you and him kissing in his car when he came to pick you up at university. You couldn’t even ask yourself the whys or the hows, just that there it was you and him.

And apparently the idiot that missed such an important detail was you.

_“Have you seen yet?”_

Your stomach churned and your breathing stopped, so you nodded before remembering she couldn’t actually see you. As a lump in your throat brutally smothered you, you tried to get the words out but it was a battle that left you exhausted.

“I… I had no idea.”

_“Yes, sure, you had no idea.”_ Her voice was mocking, sarcastic, while you finally took in a deep shaky breath, feeling the walls around you closing in. _“So, tell me, are you working to get that engagement ring? You have to tell me everything!”_

How? Why? You had let him fool you; you had believed his lies and were smitten by his mask of deceit. Did he just look you in the eye and actually fabricated those stories and feelings? Did he really do it? In your flabbergasted state, a realization surfaced in the back of your mind and it chilled you to the bone with a question you never expected would be so hard to answer. Even after all this time, could you say that you knew him at all? Who was the man in your apartment? Who was the man you had let in your heart?

“Are you still there?”

Without a word you hung up the phone, disconnected the cord, and brushed a hand against your face, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts in your mind without much success. 

Confusion led to pain and hurt at the feeling of having been mocked, of having lived in the blissful ignorance of a kid unaware to the obvious truth. It gave way to anger when you couldn’t find answers and the voice in your head reproached your gullibility, your stupidity. You should have known better. You should have known it all along when you perceived he was so much different from the rest of the guys you had met before. In some way, he stood out in the crowd and carried himself, confident as if he owned the place even when he meant no arrogance or pretension. It just seemed natural for him, as though he had been raised that way— made to believe that he could do as he pleased, when he pleased. 

Details you’d never given importance to before but seemed to add to the uncertainty you felt now.

“Why didn't you tell me?” There was shuffling behind you but no response came and you grew impatient as time passed. Could he not at least say something, speak for what he had done? “You lied to me and made me believe you were someone you’re not. What I want to know is what gave you the right to do that.”

Your voice was unexpectedly collected, and not the blubbering nervous mess you usually were under stress. You didn’t even face him as he stood by the door to the sitting room, fully clothed and taciturn. This wasn’t the way he had pictured things turning out after the night you spent, and it brought shame to him for failing you so miserably— for betraying your trust out of selfishness.

Neither of you moved and it wasn’t until you had cast your gaze to the floor that he finally reacted. “It's not what you think.” Saying those words didn’t make it look any less wrong, however, and they didn’t make him feel better. “I meant to tell you sooner but I could never find the right moment. I'm so sorry.” He tried to approach, place a hand on your shoulder, but you flinched away from him and he retreated, face pale and eyes full of hurt and rejection.

This time, there was no answer from you. You still didn’t turn to look at him, refused to do so, just so he wouldn’t see the tears that were falling. Just so he wouldn’t see you broken.

“I know what I did is wrong. I lied and betrayed your trust. I'm not asking you to forgive but understand that I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to lie but I had no choice.” With a heavy sigh, he took a step back to put some distance between you, sensing how the relationship he had built with you was falling apart. “It's true, I'm William Irons. I'm not who you thought I was. I'm not a brave man serving his country. I'm just a coward that hoped to escape from his family. And when I met you that evening, I saw a chance to be someone else, someone of my own, step out of my father's shadow, and I took it without thinking twice. I never imagined that we'd come down to this, but I don't regret my time with you.”

You hugged the sheets closer and turned your head slightly to look at him and, for a moment, he wished that you would tell him what a jerk he was. Your lack of response was much worse than having you screaming and pointing an accusatory finger at him. Yell at him, hit him, tell him what a horrible person he was. He could take anything but not your indifference.

“Please, leave. I don't think it's a good idea we have this conversation right now.” You sounded exhausted, disappointed, ready to collapse and cry but you did none of that. You wouldn’t do it in front of him. “I don't want to say something I may come to regret.”

So this was it. How did everything go downhill in just a moment? His eyes watched the screen of TV as the news of him and you kept replaying once and again, like the notion of two people in love was so fascinating that those vultures had to speculate and pass judgment like they knew shit. The only opinion he cared about was yours, however, but things had gone to hell and now… and now what? He should have held you in his arms and looked at you, at the mess he had made, but he couldn’t move. He did something terrible and he felt like a child who was being admonished. It was like that time he destroyed his grandma’s porcelain doll one Christmas, when he was a kid, that his late grandfather had gifted her when she was young.

It wasn’t the object in itself but the sentimental value it carried. Even when nana smiled at him, and told him everything was alright, William knew that it wasn’t true. He had destroyed something dear to her and the guilt was too much, just like it was now.

It wasn’t the lie that caused the pain but the one who said it.

He nodded and walked to the door slowly, trying to make up his mind about what he really meant to say. It wasn’t going to change a thing but he couldn’t part like this, couldn’t merely shrug his shoulders and brush it aside. As his hand turned the knob, he decided it was now or never.

“I know this won't fix things and I know I probably don't have any right to you anymore but…” he paused, hearing the regret in his own voice and wishing he could go back and change everything. “I wanted to thank you for everything you gave me.”

The e-mails, the genuine kind words and good wishes. Heavens knew they had given him strength when he woke up uncertain if his time had come. It was nice to know you thought about him everyday and worried about his safety. For all the moments you spent, the jokes, the bad movies and long nights talking about life and its ghosts, the evenings listening to old songs that were nearly a hundred years old. Thanks for the honesty, the time, the encouragement, he wanted to say but would it matter now?

“I never lied about what I feel.”

He only hoped, when he closed the door and walked away, that it didn’t mean the end for you and him.


End file.
